


The Bonds of Boundaries

by QDS



Category: The City and The City - Mieville
Genre: Character of Color, Dark Agenda Challenge, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Muslim Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QDS/pseuds/QDS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set sometime post-novel. It features minor characters and original characters and several POVs. Possibly minor spoilers for the events of the novel, but pretty major ones for the concept. You'll probably just get confused if you try to read this without knowing the universe!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bonds of Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avendya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avendya/gifts).



MSN chat transcript

Heidi85: k? u there?

orciny_chick: Yep!

Heidi85: hey, cool. can we do illitan today? i really need to practice after all. ;)

orciny_chick: Sure! After the day I've had, something familiar would be good...u won't believe what I did today!

orciny_chick: J?

Heidi85: sorry, taking ages to see your msgs. the net is lagging here (so envious of your broadband!) what!

orciny_chick: If u had been in Ul Qomatown at around 2pm, u might have seen me. Like, 'breach' seen me.

Heidi85: OMG, u thought ul qomatown was, like, ul qoma for real?

orciny_chick: I felt so stupid! Luckily I realised myself though and got out of there. I think...

Heidi85: what is it?

oriciny_chick: I might have seen Breach, actually.

Heidi85: SHIT! FOR REAL! u've seen them before, haven't u?

orciny_chick: Yeah, when the mugger from Besź tried to take a woman hostage near the Ul Qoma opera. So I think it was them again. There was this man, old, 45 maybe, pretty thin, and he came out of the shadows. Not quickly, more like a panther, but he was watching me more like a curious squirrel. Like he wondering what I was doing, rather than...you know...

Heidi85: maybe he was just a concerned besź? did you unsee him?

orciny_chick: Of course. Though telling you about him now kind breaks that rule!

Heidi85: LOL! so...what did u think of besźel then? ;)

orciny_chick: Silly, you know I can't tell you that....then again, I've breached once already...;) it's a pity Besźel blue is illegal here – it looks really nice up close! Would really suit these new pants I bought if I had a top in that colour.

Heidi85: let's swap; you can have besźel blue, and we'll take that type of green that's on the front door of your parents apartment.

orciny_chick: Hey, that's breach!

Heidi85: ...no...unseeing...really, i promise. ;)

orciny_chick: Oh, I totally believe u...not.

Heidi85: come on, how many times have u unseen our door?

orciny_chick: Yeah, point taken. :) I'm really looking forward to next week.

Heidi85: me too. :D

*

Shukman let him go a little earlier than usual. Both of them were tired, and for Hamd's part, he wanted to make as much distance between himself and the Fulana Detail that had come in just that afternoon. A homeless woman who'd been beaten over the head with a rock. She would probably get neither her real name or justice, at least according to Naustin. Hamd had learned to handle getting one or the other, but the thought of both depressed him horribly.

The worst part was moods like this tended to make him breach accidentally; only two weeks ago, after a similar day, he'd peered admiringly at some cameras in a shop front, only to quickly have to unsee the rather enticing looking merchandise.

The old man winked at him as he left the cold lab, his expression sly and secretive. "Besides, you've got a date."

"She's a friend." Hamd had slipped his jacket on, slightly embarrassed by the implication that he and Juliska were more than just friends.

Probably, he reasoned as he went up stairs, because he wasn't entirely sure himself what they were just yet.

Hamd bought a newspaper in the stand across from the police station – the same stand where he'd first met Juliska. Something to read in the tram on his way. His iPod could only distract him so much, and after that day, he really didn't want to think about work if he could help it.

But neither music or text occupied his thoughts. Instead, as the tram rattled along, his mind turned to this pleasant but rather ever-so-slightly odd relationship.

They way they'd met, he had to admit, was like something out of an American movie. She'd been gazing off into the distance, and suddenly, she'd shaken her head rapidly, eyes shut and she turned to him, panting a little. Her movement had sent him reeling back a little, knocking magazines to the pavement. A loud curse from the proprietor had sent of them to the ground to pick them up.

"Sorry, I sometimes gaze off and then..." She'd shaken her head again, slower, as if scolding herself, but Hamd had nodded, understanding. Everyone had different tactics for unseeing, especially when they'd realised they'd been staring too long, unknowingly seeing into places that they shouldn't.

"My fault," she'd said, stacking the magazines back where they were supposed to be. "Please, let me buy you a chocolate or something."

Hamd was rarely bold, but that day he had been, and asked her if she wanted to get a coffee instead.

He'd taken her to the DöplirCaffé that he often frequented. It was very public, and he'd no doubt be seen by several friends and acquaintances, but he felt more comfortable seeing a woman he barely knew in a more public place. Fewer questions and fewer assumptions could be made.

They'd come to the entrance, about to go through the Muslim side, and he'd noticed she'd slowed down a little, and looked a little tentative.

"This might sound strange, but I've never been in a DöplirCaffé."

That had bemused him. "You know so much about Ul Qoma, the city you do not live in," - she was studying Illitan literature at university, she'd said on the tram - "and yet you have never been to a Döplir?"

She'd blushed a little. "I wasn't sure if I'd be welcome. Isn't it for--"

"People like me?" He'd raised an eyebrow at her.

"I mean..." She'd looked down, frowning, but thoughtfully. "I don't want to intrude on what isn't mine. It's almost like...breach."

Hamd laughed, a little touched and slightly surprised at the sensitivity.

"Then you're invited as my guest. Please."

She'd like it so much – friendly and open, she'd called it – and they'd enjoyed chatting, that they decided to meet there again. For about two months they had done so. Where it was going from there...

Juliska was waiting for him. She'd been gazing away in thought (it was very endearing, actually, to watch her simply daydream or think) and had order him a cup of sahlep that was placed in front of him just as he sat down. He waved to a friend of his father's who sat at the bar with another man on the Jewish side of the building. The man raised his eyebrows at Hamd, casting them to Juliska's back, but Hamd shrugged back. This is casual, he tried to convey. Really casual...

Juliska had sparkling blue eyes, blonde hair, long and pulled back in a pony tail. She was funny and clever, exactly the sort of girl his parents would have liked if he brought her home and introduced her to them...but once she left, they would have sat him down and had a serious conversation about dating a non-Muslim girl. And he would have understood - he did understand. After all, many a so-called 'pure' Besź girl had crossed the street to avoid passing him even these days (one had even done so and narrowly missed breaching the Ul Quma shop front on the other side. He told others of the humourous dance she had done to avoid both him and breaching, and it had become a rather nice little anecdote that took the edge off much harsher moments of racist behaviour).

So he was still trying to decide whether or not he wanted to have that conversation. Indeed, he was still trying to make up his mind about Juliska. Did she want more? Or was she happy to have him as a friend, but perhaps she would never date an ébru (even if she would never have used that word?)

Hamd pinched his forehead, and tried to let the thoughts go. He blamed the day, the poor Fulana Detail, Naustin's cynicism, for allowing that darker thought to slide in.

"Bad day?" Juliska asked.

He nodded. "But it is over now. Please, let's not talk about it. No problems will be fixed if we do. You were thinking something when I came in, I could tell. What is it?"

Juliska grinned, her expression a little wistful. "I was just thinking about the Döplir. It is like a crosshatched area, right, but without the need to unsee. And then I was wonder what these cities would be like without the crosshatches..." She then shrugged, still grinning, dismissing her own thoughts as silliness, and took a sip of her coffee.

Hamd, however looked rather intently in his cup as he stirred at his sahlep. He was born-and-bred in Besźel, but when he spoke of childhood lessons in unseeing with friends whose families had always lived there, he discovered that his parents had been far stricter, more adamant about how to unsee. He had even avoid playing at breach as a child, so terrified he was of doing so. The anxiety had lessened down the years, as he realised his fears were far too extreme, and very minor breaches were simply part of life, and that his parents had only been trying their best to follow the rules, because sometimes rules were all they had.

All that aside, talk of unification was dangerous. Juliska didn't seem like an activist type...but one never knew. She was, he'd learned quickly, a little unconventional. A tincture of unification ideology probably made sense, particularly in tandem with what she studied.

Instead, he changed the conversation. "How is your orientation training going?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Very good. They're very happy with my Illitan, but they really should be, if I do say so myself. I'm finding the computer simulations tricky though. Difficult to separate the pictures out from the other sometimes."

She then frowned. "I'm a bit nervous, though. You see, I'm going mostly for the conference, so I'll be at the university, which is fine, but for part of it, I'm going to be grosstopically right alongside my parents' apartment."

Hamd frowned. "That sounds risky, why would you do that?" It was one of the reasons he was slightly nervous about making a trip himself. He wasn't sure if he could handle unseeing his everyday life in favour of seeing what he was usually not supposed to. Yet this was the first time he'd heard Juliska sound apprehensive.

"Well," and she leaned forward, a little conspiratorial. "I'm going for the conference, but I'm actually more excited about something else. I'm going to see my _almost-neighbour_."

Hamd was now more than a little confused. It was clearly an invented term, being a portmanteau of Besź and Illitan. He matched her body language, moving closer to her,

"I'm sorry, your _what_?"

When Juliska finished telling him just how one acquired an _almost-neighbour_, much later that night, he was still just as unsure about where he wanted the relationship to go, but he was very certain she was more unconventional than perhaps even his parents could manage.

*

The apartment building was crosshatched; one half was in Ul Qoma, and the other in Beszel. The half, however, didn't mean side by side. The crosshatch was horribly uneven, meaning the first two floors were in Ul Qoma, the next three in Besźel, and the very top awkwardly divided in two.

"This is what you get for moving into a cheap building."

They were amongst the first words Kareenha remembered Mother saying to Father. Father had looked a little sheepish. Mother, however, had been grateful for that Ul Qoma had some space on the roof. They at least could get some air on hot nights in summer.

The internal courtyard, the only thing neatly crosshatched into two, was quite large, and enclosed. As such, Mother had felt safe leaving Kareenha alone there to play, and had often left her there. Their kitchen window was only one floor up, so Mother could watch her quite easily.

One day, Kareenha was drawing with chalk on the floor of the courtyard. The plain concrete made the perfect canvas, and it could be easily washed. She had started to draw a picture of the park opposite their building. Well, sort of. There were more colours and flowers and green in her picture than in the one opposite, but she tried her best to get the climbing

There were gaps in it, though, and the gaps of the spaces she had to unsee. But that was ok. That was how it was.

Suddenly, there was movement to her left. Movement she tried to unnotice. It was, after all, in Besźel. But it was a little difficult; whoever it was kept scuffing their shoes around, like they were running in circles. Kareenha focused very intently on her picture.

Which is probably why she didn't notice when the movement stopped, but did when another girl's voice spoke.

Kareenha didn't understand the word, but she knew the tone. It was the one she had used to describe her mother's best shoes.

Pretty.

The word as quickly followed by a gasp, and the sound of shoes scuffling away from her. Kareenha looked up...and quickly looked back down again. It had been long enough, though, to see, and then unsee, a girl about her own age.

There was another word, and she really tried to unhear it, she really did...but she could tell the girl she was trying to unsee has said sorry.

"That's ok," she said in Illitan...then looked quickly up at her apartment. Mother would be really angry if she had seen her do that. It was a really bad thing to do. She was meant to unhear it, but the girl had sounded really sorry...

But Mother wasn't in the kitchen. And it occurred to Kareenha, not for the first time, that perhaps if Mother didn't know that she'd not unsee, it was ok.

Carefully, Kareenha turned her head, and through the fringe of her hair, caught a glimpse of the girl who had spoken.

Her dress was pale blue, and her hair was done in two braids. Kareenha was reminded of a picture of Heidi. The girl was also now looking at her, her eyes occasionally darting higher up in the apartment building. Checking for her own Mother, perhaps?

The girl took a step forward, a very slow step forward, and peered down at Kareenha's picture. Very quietly, she said the same word she had said at first. Kareenha smiled, pleased at the reaction, and she held out the piece of chalk for her, and the girl began to slowly reach out, before jerking her hand back as if it would bite. She looked away, towards the doorway to the building. But Kareenha still held the chalk out, and eventually, the girl took it from her, and sat down next to her.

And the best thing was the girl made her picture of the park across complete. Everything from both Ul Qoma and Besźel.

Their picture was almost complete when Kareenha heard two loud screams, both adult, female voices. She very quickly realised she was supposed to only hear one.

*

Driving, Efat contemplated as he finished his lunch in the front of his cab, was a hazardous task, even when it wasn't one's occupation. When he drove (his own car, not a taxi) in Sanandaj, he'd always had to be alert, on the lookout for children, motorbikes, and stray animals of every variety. He'd jostled for space with large cars and trucks, sliding in to gaps where he could to get ahead of the changing lights. His cunning as a driver had been complimented on by friends and family.

So much so that when he'd had to consider professions he might take up once he left the refugee camp, driving a taxi in Ul Qoma had made perfect sense. The basic skills of day to day life became part of his occupation, but this was fraught with even more challenges. Efat was keen to learn, though, and at least in driving, had become quickly adept at navigating the crosshatches. Even in streets that were total Ul Qoma, Efat paid attention; it was all to easy to get distracted a lose

His favourite time was definitely night. Sometimes visitors from Besźel asked him if he ever want to go there instead, but he knew Besźel could not match the neon lights of Ul Qoma. Efat had seen pictures of Las Vegas, but he preferred the elegance that the greens and yellows against the clean chrome of the modern architecture.

Beside; Besźel, he suspected, would be a lot like Sanandaj, but colder. No point in going over.

A knock on the taxi window. A young woman. He nodded to her, shoving the takeaway containers in the plastic bag he'd bought it in, as she climbed into the back seat.

"Copula Hall, please," she said.

Efat nodded in the mirror, beaming at the attractive face as he pulled away from the curb. Her hair, fashionably cut short and very straight, was black, and her complexion was similar, but a bit darker than his own, like most Ul Qoman's.

"You meet friend there? From Besźel?" he asked, trying to make his Illitan clear as possible.

The girl (well, young woman, really, she was perhaps 22) nodded vigourously, clearly pleased to be seeing this friend.

"A boy?" He winked in the mirror.

The girl rolled her eyes, a very modern and American acquired gesture. Efat occasionally played chess with a Somalian who complained that his children were becoming more American than Ul Qoman – even with the blockades, culture still seeped through. But hers wasn't meant maliciously.

"No, not that sort of friend. A girl friend. She's a...pen friend?"

"Ah yes, I know the term. Very good. First time meeting?"

The girl chuckled. "No. But the first time in many years."

"Ah, this is good then. So today you show her Ul Qoma...and she will..._not_ show you Besźel."

He knew it was a poor attempt at a joke, but for some reasons, she laughed very long and very loud.

*

She had jewellery everywhere, and her clothes were a patch work that was neither Besź or Ul Qoman. But Kareenha had always been the artistic type, ever since Juliska had known her.

They hadn't said anything immediately once Juliska was firmly on the Ul Qoman side of Copula Hall. Kareenha has surprised her; not just in her dress, but she was also taller than Juliska by about half a head. But then again neither of them had been living at home, so it wasn't like they'd had much of a chance to unsee each other recently.

Then Kareenha had squealed, and practically lifted Juliska, who was now giggling happily, off the ground. Kareenha spoke rapidly in Illitan, Juliska managing to keep up with most of it, and she grabbed one of her bags.

"We're going to have so much fun, I can tell!"

Juliska, of course, hadn't learned the name of the girl she had helped finish drawing the chalk picture with for a long time. They had breached so badly that neither of them had been allowed to play in the courtyard for about a year afterwards. Juliska's mother had almost fainted, and then screamed at her. What if Breach had come? What if they'd seen you both? They forgave accidents, but that was really bad, Juliska, really, really naughty of you!

Suitable berated, Juliska had cried about it, a lot. Five years old, and the girl who could have been her best friend and neighbour was taken from her. For about two years after that, she didn't even get to unsee her girl with the thick dark hair and who drew pretty pictures; later on, she suspect both their parents had managed to successful navigate the crosshatches of that building to keep them quite deliberately apart. It was only when each of them turned 7 that they'd started to encounter, and promptly unsee and unhear, each other as they passed in the apartment building.

She had been 12 when she received a letter with an Ul Qoman stamp, addressed to 'the girl with the Heidi braids.' She unsaw Kareenha on the staircase the next day, but had made sure her smile was big enough in case there was an accidental breach.

The Besź Kareenha had written in had been really basic, but clearly she tried so hard that it took Juliska nearly a month to write back to her in similar sounding Illitan.

And that was it. True pen friends. They communicated in a mix of the two languages, and it was that way that the term _almost-neighbours_ was born. It never caught up with either of their regular friends, who thought the whole venture was incredibly risky and ever bordering on seditious.

But they never breached for the friendship. Of that they made very sure.

The advent of internet was an utter godsend. Though as Ul Qoma's high tech profile rose, the lag between internet connections became increasingly frustrating for Juliska. But to be able to 'chat' in real time (neither of their parents would allow them to make 'long distance' calls – too expensive) had meant they could share details of their lives with a greater immediacy.

It also made things slightly more surreal, at least for Juliska. Before, she had to wait about a week before Kareenha's letters came to her, so there was a natural time lag between events.

With the internet, however, if she accidentally saw Kareenha's older brother bring a friend back to Kareenha's flat, she'd try to forget...only to have Kareenha mention it and the thought come flooding back. That took some getting used to.

Kareenha took her all around the city that day, and was particularly careful to avoid the more crosshatched areas for Juliska's comfort (still, Juliska occasionally leaned in and said 'I think we're near where my lecturer lives' or 'I think I just passed an ex in Besź...that was weird!'). Whilst Kareenha had romantic visions of the old Besź architecture (she'd specifically asked Julisksa to bring her some old postcards of the town centre for her latest art project), Juliska had been keen to see the bright lights of the evening.

As twilight came, they were on a bridge, eying the particularly distinct Ul Qoma tourist boats, when the city began to light up behind them. Juliska had started to take a picture, when Kareenha clapped her hands.

"I almost forgot. Let me show you this!"

She pulled a very slim camera for her own bag, and beckoned Juliska to her side.

"Come on, MySpace shot," she said in English.

Kareenha held the camera away from both of them, Juliska leaning closer so their heads touched. Behind them would be the lights of Ul Qoma and the shadows of Besźel.

A bright flash, and Kareenha held the preview up for Juliska.

"What do you see?"

Juliska frowned, confused. "Well, it's us, and Ul Qoma, and...oh I get it!"

The camera had been able to detect which parts of the shot had been Ul Qoma and which parts were Besźel, and had unseen the Besź architecture for them.

"That's really neat. Can it work in Besźel?"

"I'm sure it can. Let's get you one before you go. And because what it also can do, is see _everything_."

Juliska blinked, and glanced up at Kareenha, who was grinning very wickedly.

"Surely the Ul Qoman government wouldn't allow such a thing."

Kareenha shrugged. "Well, no...but with a little help from my more...technological savvy friends..." She waggled her eyebrows.

Juliska shook her head, though it was meant in admiration. "We are both going to get into serious trouble one day."

Kareenha looked a bit more serious, and leaned closer to Juliska. "You do have to admit...sometimes a complete picture is nice."

She slung her arm around Juliska shoulder, and they ambled their way slowly off the bridge, and Ul Qoma's lights shone more brightly around them.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering, yes, Efat is the Kurdish taxi driver Tyador encountered in Ul Qoma. And I was being a bit cheeky by shoehorning Tyador himself in there, I'll admit.


End file.
